


Give It Up

by intotheruins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom Dean, M/M, Sub Sam, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2016, ball slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:04:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6780925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the "ball slapping" square on my kink bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give It Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've tried writing this particular kink, hopefully it doesn't suck! :D

Dean always starts out light. He gets Sam laid out on his back, legs spread wide and hands clenched around the headboard, or pressed into the wall. Doesn't even have to tie him down for this, which never fails to blow his mind. Sam's always flushed and panting for it before they even start, cock so hard that it's curved up against his belly, and tonight is no different.

The bed frame in their latest motel is one of those old, creaky metal things. The bars that make up the headboard are just the right size for Sam to grip white-knuckle tight. His chest heaves, breaths coming out sharp and short as he watches Dean settle in by his hip, one hand spread out warm and firm along Sam's inner thigh. He rubs it in slow, soothing circles, waiting for Sam's breathing to calm a bit.

Dean's still dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. The added vulnerability always gets Sam that little bit hotter when they do this. Just seeing Sam so turned on — thighs quivering with anticipation, eyes wide and pupils so blown there's hardly any hazel left — has Dean hard enough that the waistline of his boxers is starting to pull away from his skin. He has to suck in a few deep breaths to try and slow his rapid heart rate.

“Gonna start,” Dean warns.

Sam's fists flex around the bars. He nods once, eyes widening even further as he watches Dean lift his hand. He holds his next breath, legs shifting further apart in a silent plea.

The first few slaps are gentle. Dean just uses his fingers, pressed together and curved slightly, resisting the urge to just cup his hand around the soft, heavy weight of Sam's balls. He bites down on his lip as he watches Sam try to spread his legs even more. The next couple of smacks are harder and Sam groans, tosses his head back against the pillow and just arches into it.

“'S good, Sammy,” Dean praises. He braces his free hand on Sam's chest, thumbs at a hard nipple and grins when Sam whines. “Little harder?”

Sam chokes out something that might be, “Please,” so Dean puts some more force behind the next few smacks. His moans are nearly as loud as Sam's as he watches the delicate sac slowly blush a deep red.

By the time Dean starts to pick up his pace — giving Sam no time to catch his breath between slaps — his brother is thrashing against the sheets.

“Come on,” Dean growls. He slaps just a little harder, hips shifting helplessly against nothing as he watches Sam arch off the bed. “Come on, baby boy, give it up for me.”

A few more rapid strikes and Sam is choking on a scream, shaking his head wildly against the pillow as he comes.

 


End file.
